LXG: Timestream Dreams
by Nathan-Daystorm
Summary: What if the League we know wasn't the only League? How did M keep the government distracted during the movie? Maybe they had something else to deal with....
1. Default Chapter

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

Timestream Dreams

Prologue

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the League characters in this story.  I do own the OCs in the story, Francis de Lauriet, his wife Leeanna, his daughter Alice, and his two lackeys Reflex and Muscle.  V is someone…but that's all I'm saying.  Someone.  Also, a note:  This IS movieverse.  In fact, it takes place at the same time as the movie, so you will hear about the events of the movie in this story.  Just not directly, that's all.  As far as the elements of the comic book that are in this story, they are here simply because I like the concept, don't expect me to bend to any purists who tell me, "You have Campion here, so you have to be using the League line-up from the comic!"  You will be duly ignored.  Now, on with the show.

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The warm wind blew across the dusty plain, the three men standing at the mouth of a cave, partially caved in at the entrance.  The first man was of average height, with dark hair that fell to about the middle of his neck.  It was combed back neatly, just as his dark beard was trimmed somewhat closer to the face than normal, though the mustache that bled in was allowed a bit more leeway.  Dark eyes, a brown that was nearly black, searched the path the trio had traveled, trying to pick out anything that moved.  If there were even a sign of a human body, the thin, pale man that was dressed like the Lord of some European estate would call the operation off for today.  Finally, after tense minutes that seemed like hours, the man turned and looked to the giant comrade that stood just in front of the rocks at the mouth.

This man was enormous, with bulging muscles that barely fit into the servants' clothes he was more or less shoved into.  He had short black hair and looked to be an incredibly fit man in his middle years.  He was a giant of a man, towering at nearly 6'5" tall, and seemed to be made of muscle.  A large, somewhat sloping brow bled into a large, flat nose.  Emotionless, sunken brown eyes stared unblinking at the rocks, while his benefactor scanned the horizon to see if anyone was watching or following.  It took a few minutes, but the bearded man turned and nodded.  "Muscle, make us a door."  Muscle grinned slightly and nodded.

"Right away, Mr. Lauriet."  The accent was apparently American, though Muscle had no idea whether he was or not.  His employer, Francis de Lauriet, had found Muscle on a well-traveled road in Paris, not four years ago.  Muscle had no memories of any time before then.  He hadn't even known the date when he'd been found.  All he knew was that he was an incredibly fit, strong individual, and that Mr. Lauriet had taken incredible care of him.  Now he was returning the favor with his loyal service.  In this instance, he was to clear a path through the rocks that had been used to purposely block off the mouth of this cave.  Apparently, there was something valuable stored within the cave, something that Mr. Lauriet wanted.  There was one thing Mr. Lauriet had bred into his employees.

What Mr. Lauriet wanted, Mr. Lauriet got.

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Muscle glanced to the third man, Christopher "Reflex" Armand before nodding once more.  Reflex was a lithe man, sinewy muscle always tensed, ready to blow at any given moment.  A cigarette was nestled in the corner of his mouth, his long coat blowing in the hot Hill Valley wind.  He was not used to such dry weather, and he blew out a disgusted sigh through his nose.  He had a thin nose and a hard face, as if he'd seen much trouble in his life.  His brown eyes had a piercing quality, and even his employer wasn't immune.  His mouth was normally the thing that pierced, though…one's patience, specifically.  "Hey, think we could hurry this up at all?  It's too hot out here."

"Shut up, Reflex," Muscle groaned as he hefted a large rock and threw it to the side.  It went much farther than most normal people could throw it, revealing that Muscle was, in fact, more than the normal human.  "Almost there, Mr. Lauriet."

"Well, it's about time," Reflex groaned, only to receive a sharp look from his employer.  "Sorry, Mr. L."

"Good.  Is there a path clear enough to get through," Francis asked, stepping closer to Muscle to get a better look.  He pushed back the left side of his golden-trimmed coat to reveal a thin sword strapped on over his finely sewn pants.  Heavy boots thunked against the ground as the dusty, sandy plains gave way to rock.  His unbuttoned collar revealed that, though he was in more control of himself, he agreed with Reflex about the heat.

"Think so, Mr. Lauriet.  Just let me move this last rock, here, and…there!"  Muscle shoved through the narrow path he'd made, followed by Francis, and Reflex behind him, knives twirling in his hands.  Francis exuded an aura of arrogant confidence, and his hand never flinched towards his sword.  Reflex hated that about his boss, how he always seemed to be in control of himself, to never feel paranoid, or even cautious, about anything.  It was as if he just inherently _knew_ when was the time for weapons and when was not.

"Are you sure this is the place," Reflex asked, looking around in the dank, relatively dark cave.

"This is where Moriarty said we would find the time machine," Francis replied, sounding irritated that his underling would question him.

"Sorry, Mr. L," Reflex repeated, picking up on his employer's somewhat less-than-subtle tone.  "You're right.  I just wonder why he was so mysterious about it."

"We always knew Moriarty had his own agendas and plots," Francis returned.  "Just be glad we were able to steer him away from his plan involving the Cavorite."

"Oh, _that_ would've been great," Reflex replied sarcastically, smirking and taking a drag on his cigarette immediately afterwards.

"For once, Reflex, I agree with you," Francis replied, and then he grimaced and added, "Put that thing out.  You know I _detest_ that habit of yours.  It's a wonder I let you do it at all."

"Mr. L…"

"Yes, yes," Francis replied, exasperated.  "It keeps your nerves calm.  Fine, just be certain you won't be taking a puff on it when you should be putting up a fight."

"I always do, Mr. L," Reflex stated proudly.

"Don't get cocky, Reflex," Francis chided, and then turned his attention to Muscle.  "Have you found anything?"

"I think you might want to look at this, Mr. Lauriet."

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"I think you might want to look at this, Mr. Lauriet."  Muscle was amazed at what he was seeing.  In some ways, it resembled a box with four wheels, but at the same time, it didn't.  It was garish, and appeared to be fairly weathered.  It also didn't have a square top, instead having four doors on the side and posts that came up from those at a slant, almost like a trapezoid viewed in three dimensions.  The colors were gray, and blue running up the middle of the posts.  This was the alleged time machine, the DeLorean, called an automobile.  The other two men began to step forward, but a shot rang out and ricocheted off the left wall of the cave, stopping them in their tracks.

"I don't think so," came the voice of an elderly man.  He stepped into the light of the cave, revealing straggly white hair that was pushed down to his upper back by a cowboy hat.  His tan coat draped to just below his knees, his blacksmith's apron still on under the coat.  His ice blue eyes were staring down the sights of an impressive rifle, leveled directly at Francis's head.  "Just back up and nobody will get hurt."

"Doctor Emmett Brown, I presume," Francis stated, turning to look at the man.  Reflex tensed up, but Francis held up a hand and shook his head.  Reflex glanced to his boss for a moment and then relaxed, though his knives were now held at the ready instead of twirling.  "I am Francis de Lauriet.  I come from a faraway country-"

"I don't much care where you come from," Emmett returned, rifle never wavering.  "I just want you out of this cave."

"Is there something sensitive here, Doctor Brown," Francis asked, a smug smirk crawling up his lips.  Muscle hadn't moved, not wanting to anger Doctor Brown, but his brow was creased in concern for his employer.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't know the answer already," Emmett returned.  "Now, we're going to walk out of this cave and I'm going to give you some free blacksmithing to make you forget all about the long road you took to get here."

"The road has already been forgotten, Doctor Brown."  Francis didn't appear concerned at all.  "It is the time machine that resides within…_that _is what cannot be forgotten."

"Don't make me shoot you," Emmett sighed.  "I hate having to shoot people."

"Have you ever shot anyone," Francis asked, his tone reeking of patronizing arrogance.

"First time for everything," Emmett stated, his tone harder than it had previously been.

"Then shoot, Doctor Brown," Francis replied, grinning.  "But, my advice:  Do make it a good shot."  A tense moment passed as Emmett stared down the sights of his rifle at Francis's head.

"What's your name," Emmett asked.

"Francis de Lauriet," the European man returned.  "Not that it will do you any good."  Emmett sighed and pulled the trigger, and the bullet tore through Francis's head.  The man dropped, as if dead, and Emmett then turned his rifle to Reflex.  "Doctor Brown," Francis called, getting up and letting Emmett watch as the last of the wound healed, "I think you're forgetting something."

"Impossible," Emmett gasped, stumbling backwards in shock.  "I shot you!"

"What a good shot it was, too," Francis stated mockingly, scooping a bit of the drying blood up with his fingers.  "If I were human, I would be dead."  Emmett raised his rifle, intending to shoot again, but this time Francis signaled to Reflex.  Reflex whipped his hand forward, sending his knife sailing towards Doctor Brown.  The elderly man was forced to hop backwards to avoid Reflex's knife winding up sticking into his head.  "We'll be leaving now, Doctor Brown," Francis stated, climbing into the DeLorean, Muscle taking the driver's seat and Reflex climbing into the back.  "Don't try to stop us.  You don't have the capabilities to do so."  Emmett was forced to watch as his greatest, and perhaps most dangerous, invention was simply driven out of the cave.  A long time seemed to pass, and finally, Emmett began making his way out of the cave.

"Damnit."

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A week later, Emmett was furious.  He'd sent a letter to the American government, explaining the situation and requesting their aid in the matter in the form of one or two of their best Special Agents.  He held the reply in his shaking hands, Clara regarding him with a concerned look.  "What is it, Emmett?"

"Listen to this:  'Dear Doctor Brown,

                               We regret to inform you that we simply cannot help you in this matter.  First of all, your claims of having built a time traveling machine, and of being from the future, are, to be blunt…ridiculous.  No such situation could be true, and in fact, I would suggest seeking professional counseling, as I know that seems to be something that a man of science would do.  Secondly, even if we did give enough credence to your claim to send the Agents you have requested, we do not have those two to send.  Special Agent Sawyer is on assignment overseas, and Special Agent Finn died in the line of duty not too long ago.  Should you wish to continue investigation of this rather tawdry claim, you may, but you will not have our help in the matter.'"  By the end of it, Emmett was biting off his words and nearly biting off his tongue in the process.  "They're treating me like a lunatic," Emmett growled, throwing up his hands in defeat.

"Well, Emmett, ya have to admit, it does sound pretty ridiculous," Clara said reassuringly.  "Ah mean, Ah know ya aren't lyin', but they sure don't."

"Yeah, yeah," Emmett groaned, tossing the letter onto his worktable.  "You're right, as usual."  It took a moment, but an idea seemed to be blooming in his head, and Clara took notice.

"What is it, honey?  You've got that look in your eyes when you're inventin' something."

"Well…if Agent Sawyer is overseas, why can't I take my business there too?"

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It took a few weeks for Emmett to be convinced that the British government was ignoring him, but at last he was forced to admit that it was true.  He would have no aid in the situation, and would be forced to go after the thieves himself.  He was packing when Clara came into their bedroom with a smile on her face.  "Emmett…ya have a visitor."

"Tell 'em to go away, Clara," Emmett responded despondently.  "I don't want to see anyone."

"I thought ya'd say that," she purred.  "He's a bit of a big man…with a British accent."  Emmett's eyes widened a moment, and then he grabbed his rifle and strode out to meet his visitor.

The tubby, well-dressed gentleman was sitting at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers slightly.  He had black hair that was kept neatly short and wore a tuxedo that appeared to be worn baggy to help hide his bulk.  He was having limited success.  When he noticed Doctor Brown he stood and extended his hand.  "Doctor Brown.  I'm Campion Bond, from Her Majesty's Secret Service.  We received your letter late, or I would have been here sooner."

"It's alright," Emmett replied, shaking the extended hand a bit uneasily.  "I just hope you can do more than my own government could."

"Well," Bond replied, grinning slightly, "that depends on what you mean by doing something."

"Helping me track down these thieves, of course," Emmett responded.

"Well…directly, we can do nothing."  Emmett started to protest, but Campion silenced him with a raise of his hand.  "However…if we were to gather a team, a team that was in some way under the employ of the British empire but was, in fact, viewed as independent…_they_ could do something."  He removed a golden pocket watch from his front coat pocket, looked at it, and dropped it back into its pocket.  "We'll have to be going now, though.  He can't wait forever."  Bond turned and headed out, forcing Emmett to either follow or remain where he was.  Emmett, of course, followed.  "He is at the docks," Bond stated.  "He's been briefed on the situation."

"How do you know you can trust him," Emmett asked.

"There have been times in the past when the British Empire has needed a few…tricky situations resolved.  He has provided the transportation for that, and in return, we have, ah…looked the other way in terms of his piracy."

"Piracy," Emmett gasped, turning the corner and stopping in his tracks.  They had made it to the docks, and tied there was a large ship, magnificent in appearance, with large, billowy sails and polished wood construction.

"Doctor Emmett Brown…meet the Black Pearl, and her captain…Captain Jack Sparrow."


	2. The Game Begins

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

Timestream Dreams

Chapter One

AN:  Alright, first of all, I'd like to apologize if I offended anyone with the disclaimer.  My friend was being very annoying with her constant disapproval of the movie, on all the grounds that are mentioned constantly by comic purists, and I guess I was a little frustrated.  So if I offended anyone, I apologize.

Dru Mason:  I'm glad you liked it.  For some reason, Emmett is a bit more difficult for me to write, so I'm glad he turned out okay.

Raisha Bregail:  ^_^ I'm glad I was able dispel your doubts, I'll do my best to maintain that quality throughout.

Raven Silvers:  Poetic indeed, and many thanks.  I hope I can meet those high expectations.

Clez:  How did I get it up here without you knowing?  Do you remember that scene in the first Mission:  Impossible movie, with Ethan hanging from the ceiling avoiding all the lasers?  …Yeah, well that's not how I did it, lol.  Many thanks, and was this fast enough?  Lol.

Oh, and I'd just like to say right here:  FF.Net is being quite unfair in a certain matter involving Clez.  Seems their guidelines aren't clear enough, and when she accidentally posted something they don't think she should have, they suspended her uploading privileges for a week.  Yet they've overlooked many crossovers, songfics, and so forth.  All who think this action is unfair and wish to support our beloved authoress and friend, please either state your opinion in a review, e-mail me, or e-mail FF.Net directly.

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"So…you're a pirate?"  Emmett and Jack were below decks, having a bite to eat, while Campion worked out a few last minute things above deck.  Judging from the smoke wafting around in the ship's wake, he was just trying to be polite while pursuing his habit.  Emmett chalked that up to British people being far more polite than any Americans he knew, considering how they would often blow smoke in your face if you asked them to put it out.

"Right," Jack replied, and a grin played across his face for a moment.  "You're a blacksmith?"

"That I am," Emmett replied.  Jack laughed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head and mumbling about the irony of the situation.  "Something wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jack replied, getting up and apparently reliving a previous fight…only with his knife, instead of his sword.  "Just seems like I run into a lot of blacksmiths, that's all."  He spun on his heel and leaned forward, bringing his own face rather close to Emmett's.  "Tell me you don't have any pirate blood in you."

"Not that I know of," Emmett replied uneasily, scooting his chair back a little.  "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Jack replied, laughing and swinging himself around one of the support beams in the cabin.  "So, you made a time machine, is that right?"

"Well, I…yes.  But I thought I'd hidden it well enough."

"Well apparently _that_ wasn't true," Jack replied, smirking.  "Though what I'm sure you're curious about is just how whoever it was that did the stealin' knew where you're fancy little machine was, right?"

"That would be…enlightening," Emmett replied, unsure of where this conversation was going.  Jack leaned in closer and continued in a conspiratorial whisper.

"What the tubby gent up there didn't tell you was that there was a guy by the name of M working for the government until not too recently.  Turns out, he'd heard rumors of stuff goin' on in Hill Valley, so he sent a guy by the name of Sanderson Reed to investigate."

"Reed," Emmett replied, sounding shocked.  "I met him when he came to town!"

"Ex_actly_," Jack continued.  "Well, when Reed found out the rumors were pretty well founded, he went runnin' back and told M about it.  M told an…associate of his and off they were to Hill Valley.  Meanwhile, M overheard some idle chat about a team possibly being formed – before your letter was ever mailed, mind you – and got an idea.  He hightailed it out, and it was only afterwards that good ol' Campion up there found out that M stood for Moriarty."

"Moriarty," Emmett exclaimed, shocked.  He hopped up from his seat, forcing Jack to duck back to keep from the two of them clonking heads, and then the seemingly normal pirate placed a finger to his lips.

"Shhhh," he stated, "Campion isn't too fond of sharing that kinda information.  So…let's just keep that between the two of us for now on…savvy?"

"Savvy?"

"…Ahhh, blast, nobody understands me these days," Jack half grumbled, half sighed.  "Look, just don't go around spoutin' off what I just told you."

"…Fine," Emmett replied.  "And in return, the same goes for talking about my time machine in public."

"We have an accord," Jack stated, grinning and sticking out his hand.  Emmett glanced at it a moment, and then shook it.  "Now, let's go see who we're pickin' up next."

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"Maybe you should go take the wheel, Mr. Sparrow," Emmett whispered.

"_Captain_ Sparrow…and you're probably right," Jack, returned, glancing at Bond before adding, "You'll have to tell me what the two of you _upstanding gentlemen_ talk about."  Jack sauntered off towards the wheel before Emmett could say anything.  If he was offended, he didn't show it.  With a sigh of confusion, Emmett walked over to the railing, standing just to the left of Bond.  The two men stood in silence for a few minutes, Emmett staring out at the ocean while Bond puffed on his cigarette.

"Is there something you wanted, Doctor Brown," Bond finally asked.  Emmett started to say something, but Bond held up his cigarette.  "Would you mind…?"

"Not at all," Emmett replied quickly.  Bond nodded in thanks, took another puff, and then gestured for Emmett to continue.  "Well, the reason I wanted our friend Jack to go to the wheel is because I wanted to ask about him."

"Well," Bond said, laughing softly, "All I can tell you is that he's one hell of a pirate.  Up until recently, we didn't believe a word of his story, but…recent discoveries have forced us to look at things in a different light."  Bond held up a hand in an almost psychic anticipation of what the scientist would say.  "He claims that he was always the best pirate known to man, but that his first real exposure to the supernatural came in the form of his traitorous first mate, Barbossa.  Jack went through a rather harsh mutiny, and was left on an island to rot.  He got off by making a deal with the rumrunners, and eventually he found his way to Port Royal.  From there he was captured, consequently released by a blacksmith by the name of William Turner, and went on a rather harrowing adventure to get back his ship.  After more than one apparent doublecross, Jack was able to fight Barbossa, and in the end it was Jack that won.  What is so unusual about this, you ask?  It took place more than a century ago.  Jack claims that the medallion he now wears is in fact cursed Aztec gold.  Any man that holds one piece is given immortal life…at the cost of quite a bit.  Jack, apparently, felt the sacrifice was worth the gain, and he claims to have snagged one of the coins while William was too busy getting cozy with a young woman named Elizabeth Swann.  He hasn't aged a day after that."  Emmett was a bit overwhelmed by all that, so he grabbed onto what he could.

"A blacksmith, you said," Emmett asked.

"Yes," Bond replied, sounding as if he'd expected every other question except the one that had been asked.  "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Emmett responded.  "So does Jack have any proof of his story?"

"…Wait until nightfall, and he'll be more than happy to show you.  He claims that the moonlight shows him for what he is." Bond replied.  "He seems to…rather enjoy it, I think."

"I see.  Well, I guess I'll just have to take an evening stroll with him, then."  Emmett returned to gazing out at the ocean, while Bond was content to puff on his cigarette in silence.  Finally, Emmett got around to the second topic of discussion.  "Where are we going, and who are we recruiting next?"

"Japan, and a monster," Bond explained, and laughed at Emmett's shocked look.  "Doctor Brown, you are going to encounter things during the course of this mission that are going to shock and amaze you.  I'd suggest acclimating yourself to it now."

"Mr. Bond, I'm not fond of dramatics," Emmett sighed.  "So please, just explain yourself straight out."

"Have you ever heard of a man named Victor von Frankenstein?"

"We're recruiting _him_," Emmett asked, astounded.

"Not quite," Bond replied, falling silent immediately after that.  Emmett was a smart man, and Campion had confidence in his ability to figure it out.

"…We're recruiting his creation, aren't we?"

"Quite," Bond stated, nodding.  "The story goes that he died in a pyre of his own creation somewhere in the arctic.  The stories are false.  Apparently, he realized about halfway to the pyre that Victor would not have wanted it to end like that.  Instead, he decided that Victor would want his creation to redeem himself.  So he took Victor's journal and headed off, bartering passage on an ice fishing boat.  He came first to London, to tell Victor's story and try to beg for amnesty.  He was given what he requested, on the condition that he wrangle his rather grievous temper.  He had heard of the strict disciplines enforced in Japan, and that is where he headed.  He resides there now, and is eager to be of service to his government."

"…Is he really as strong as the story suggests," Emmett asked.

"Stronger," Bond returned, smiling around his cigarette as he took a long puff.

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"I've been to Japan, but never like this," Emmett muttered, as the three of them wandered down a rode towards the dojo that was reputed to house the next intended member of the League.

"I've been to Singapore," Jack offered, smirking.

"Both of you should perhaps watch your mouths and your manners while we are here," Bond stated, and his tone seemed able to silence even Jack.

"Yeah, because you know what they do when you don't mind your P's and Q's here," Jack replied, grinning mischievously.  Bond sighed, and decided that there just wasn't a way to keep him quiet.  "Oh, come _on_ Bond, I'm just having a little fun."

"Yes," Emmett groaned, "it'll be _fun_ when you wind up in a cell somewhere."

"I've gotten out of them before," Jack returned, and then winked.  "With the help of a blacksmith, no less."

"Don't be expecting that from me," Emmett responded wearily.

"I believe there is something I should clarify with the two of you," Bond cut in, trying to keep the arguing to a minimum.  "Frankenstein's creation – we should call him Frankenstein, by the way, as that's the name he's taken – came here to learn discipline and help try to tame his anger."

"Yes, we _know_ that," Jack replied, seemingly exasperated.

"If you'd let me finish, Captain, you'd discover that he hasn't been completely successful."

"Oh."  That, apparently, _was_ able to silence Jack…for a moment.  "So…he's not going to, ah…attack us when he sees us, is he?"

"No," Bond stated, an amused grin spreading across his face.  "He is expecting us.  I just wanted to hear the sound of your mouth shutting for once."  Emmett and Bond both laughed and continued on, while Jack stopped momentarily, looking offended.

"Hey," he exclaimed, "I did _not_ deserve that!"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Bond and Emmett cleared the hill in front of the dojo together, with Jack straggling behind them, apparently no longer wishing to converse with them due to Bond's earlier rebuke.  The building before them was a medium sized building, its construction a blend of traditional Japanese with just a touch of German make.  A woman exited the building, turned, and bowed to a giant silhouette before turning and leaving.  The silhouette turned to face the trio for a moment before beckoning them inside and heading back inside himself.  "Now," Jack began, "do you really think we should," was all he got out before Bond and Emmett started towards the dojo.  "Now that is just malicious."  He stood there a moment more, looking put out, and then strode toward the dojo.

Once inside, they all were able to get a good look at Frankenstein.  He was a monster of a man, towering over all three of the men in the room at almost eight feet tall.  He had tanned skin that was riddled with stitches, showing where Victor von Frankenstein had put him together.  He had long black hair that looked well taken care of, especially in comparison with the rest of his body.  A hard face that showed signs of many past stresses, though his eyes showed a recent calm that had managed to wipe away a few of the lines on his face.  He wore a ratty yellowish-tan shirt with a few holes in it here and there, baggy brown trousers tucked into heavy boots lined with goat fur, and a belt made of brown fabric to keep the pants up…though it was extremely doubtful that he would need such aid to keep his pants up.  "Hello, Mr. Bond," he stated, with a very slight hint of a German accent touching his English.  "Doctor Brown, Captain Sparrow.  I've got my things all together, and we can return to your ship whenever you are ready."

"Well, you're eager, aren't you," Jack asked, chuckling.

"Yes," Frankenstein replied, crossing his arms.  "The situation is far more dire than you appear to be treating it, Captain Sparrow."

"Levity makes these kinds of things seem a lot lighter than they really are," Jack returned.

"You realize that levity is, at times, uncalled for."  It was a statement, not a question.  Jack grinned and strode flamboyantly over to Frankenstein, as if punctuating his point by over exaggerating his usual gait.

"Levity is always welcome on the Pearl," he stated, and then added, "as are those that appreciate it…if you take my meaning."  Several tense moments passed before any resolution came.

"Your point has been taken," Frankenstein stated finally.  "However…I would have to ask you to take the feelings of others into consideration."  Jack spun and headed towards the door, laughing.

"Of course.  I'll take it into consideration."  Bond simply shook his head and followed, and Frankenstein nodded to Emmett before leaving, completely without any luggage or possessions.  Emmett stood in the dojo for a few moments more before sighing.

"This is going to be a looooong voyage."


	3. Of Gods and Men

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

Timestream Dreams

Chapter Two

AN:  I'm _sooooooo_ sorry this took so long!  I never meant for the update to take so long, but I just couldn't figure out who they would pick up next, and I also got into writing Transylvania and Dreams of the Damned and kinda…forgot about this one ^_^()  But I'm not giving up on it by any means, so don't worry about that.  With any luck I'll be able to get updates to most of my current stories sometime this week, and definitely next week, since it's my spring break.  Now, on with the show.

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"Where are we headed this time," Emmett asked, looking at the map spread out over a table in the Captain's quarters.  Bond pointed to a little spot on the map.

"It's called the Temple of Light," Bond explained.  "The monks there are peaceful, though they constantly train one of their young for something they call 'Mortal Kombat' which they believe is some otherworldly martial arts tournament that decides the fate of the 'Realm of Earth.'"

"Ah, I believe I have heard something of them," Frankenstein stated.  "They revere Raiden, do they not?"

"That is correct," Bond returned.

"So whose joining our merry band of ragtag adventurers this time," Jack asked, twirling a gold coin in his left hand and gripping a bottle of rum with the other.

"…I believe it would be best for the three of you to see for yourself," Bond explained.  He almost sounded…hesitant.

"I see," Frankenstein mused.  "They will be…cooperative, correct?"

"Oh, of course.  He asked us if he could join," Bond stated, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

"So why not tell us who he is, then," Jack questioned.

"As I said, it would be best for you to find out for yourselves."

"Well, if that's all, I think I'll be going for a walk," Jack replied.  "Rum's always more fun when you're moving around."

"I'll go with you," Emmett added.

"Well, guess that only leaves Frank as dear ol' Campion's company, eh," the pirate asked, grinning.  It was, after all, nighttime.  He smirked at the gold coin and continued to twirl it.

"I will join the two of you," Frankenstein stated.  "Mr. Bond would more than likely like to plan our route."

"Indeed," the government worker stated.  "The three of you be certain to get some rest at some point."  The three of them began to clamber out of the room, but Bond clearing his throat stopped them.  "And Captain Sparrow?  Don't get either of them drunk."

"Awww, you ruin all my fun," Jack whined, smirking.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

"So," Jack asked, gulping rum briefly before continuing, "honestly, what brings you two into the service of Her Majesty?"

"Duty," Frankenstein replied matter-of-factly.

"I have to get my DeLorean back," Emmett explained.

"I said honestly," Jack chided jokingly.  "Now, let's see…Frank here, he wants his amnesty, and he'll do anything to get it.  Meanwhile, the good blacksmith might be telling the truth, but then again, maybe not.  Maybe he's really after this guy because he couldn't kill him the first time, eh mate?"

"I don't like to kill," Emmett returned quietly.

"Never said you did," Jack replied.  "Just figured you wanted his head after the way he showed you up and stole your fancy little doohickey."

"I don't think either of us believes that," Emmett returned.  "And here's a question:  Why would a pirate be here?  What's in it for you?"

"A cure for the boredom," Jack laughed.  "You have _no_ idea how boring immortality can get."

"He has a point," Frankenstein stated.  Emmett merely shook his head, still not quite used to the supernatural aspects of his two colleagues.  He passed through a sliver of moonlight and kept walking, but suddenly heard a gasp from Frankenstein and spun.  What he saw caused him to take a step back and reach for his gun.

Jack stood there, but he was a skeleton, a skeleton holding a bottle of rum and twirling a coin in his fingers.  "What," the pirate asked, spreading his arms playfully.  "Is there something in my teeth?"

"What…are you," Frankenstein questioned, still shocked.

"What do I look like," Jack returned, and both of the others got the distinct impression that he would be grinning if he had lips.

"A skeleton," Frankenstein replied.

"The walking dead," Emmett added.

"Well, Frank's more right, because technically, Frank's also the walking dead," the skeletal pirate explained.  He stepped out of the moonlight and just like that, he was normal again.  Emmett and Frankenstein both stood still, amazed beyond movement, for a moment.  Then, finally, Emmett reached out and poked Jack's face experimentally.  "Hey, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"You're skin is real," Emmett replied.  "But…the moonlight…."

"The moonlight shows me for what I really am," Jack explained, an exasperated sigh finding its way into his voice as he explained.  "You made a time machine and traveled back to this time period, yet you find _this_ amazing?"

"…The time machine was science.  This…this is something completely different," Emmett sputtered out.  The three of them stood in silence for a few moments.  Finally, Emmett reached out his hand.  "Let me see that bottle.  I think I need a drink."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The next morning found Emmett, Jack, and Frankenstein wandering through the countryside looking for the Temple of Light.  "It can't be that hard to find," Emmett sighed.  "After all, according to Bond, it's a fairly big temple."

"Yet we can't seem to find it," Jack complained.

"We will find it in time," Frankenstein calmly stated.  "We just have to wait for the gods to present the solution to us."

"Riiiiight," Jack droned sarcastically.  "Well, mind telling them to hurry up?  I left my rum back on the Pearl."  Emmett, who was holding the map, looked up and grinned.

"Speak, and ye shall receive," the elderly scientist stated, pointing ahead.  The Temple of Light stood directly in front of them.  Frankenstein nodded and began to head towards it, falling into step with Emmett.  Jack stopped a moment and gazed up at the sky.

"Sorry about all the…disbelieving and such," Jack stated.  "Well, that's that, then," the pirate grinned, clapping his hands together.  "Now, to catch up with the walking dead and blacksmith."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The three of them made their way through the gates of the temple and into what appeared to be an altar at the end of a small aisle.  No one stood at the end of the altar, though monks lined the little aisle that lead up to it.  Emmett and Frankenstein glanced around uneasily, while Jack just sniffed and began heading down the aisle.  Emmett and Frankenstein were both forced to join him, following behind at a slower pace, looking around cautiously.  Finally, when all three were standing at the altar, Emmett turned the map over to where Bond had written a little note.  He skimmed it quickly and said, "We're looking for a…Lord Raiden."

"Are you the Englishmen," one of the monks asked.

"That we are," Jack stated.

"Then you have come to the right place," came a voice.  The owner followed it a second later, coming around the corner with his head tilted down, his large, circular white hat covering his entire head.  He wore a simple gray blanket wrapped around apparently white robes.  "I am Lord Raiden."

"He's nothing but a beggar," Jack scoffed.

"Oh, really," the man asked, bringing his head up.  "Well, Captain Jack Sparrow, I'd like to see you try to prove me wrong."  Jack, who was already a bit irritated at the man's dramatic entrance, grunted and drew his sword.

"Gladly," the pirate stated, running at "Lord Raiden" and swinging his sword in a horizontal arc.  Raiden leapt up and over Jack's head, delivering a powerful back kick as soon as he landed, sending Jack flying down the aisle.  Jack regained control of himself and spun, but suddenly Emmett and Frankenstein gasped.  When Raiden turned around, lighting was crackling over his eyeballs.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Raiden stated, holding up his index and middle fingers and letting Jack watch as lightning danced across them.  Jack stood a moment more, and then Raiden said, "Oh, and you're forgiven, for the…disbelieving and such."  Apparently, that was enough for Jack, because he sheathed his sword and began making his way back up the aisle.  Raiden laughed and let the lightning end.  "So, you're the League, yes?"

"That we are," Emmett returned.  "And, obviously, you _are_ Lord Raiden."

"Quite," Raiden replied, smiling.  "Sorry about the dramatics, but it's usually what people expect of me."  With a sweeping wave of his hand, he offered, "So, shall we be going?  Time is, after all, of the essence."

"Actually," Jack replied, falling into step with Raiden, "it's what's at stake.  Didn't you read the briefing?"

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere."


End file.
